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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23642845">Admiration &amp; Bias</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderNerd/pseuds/ReaderNerd'>ReaderNerd</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCIS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Slibbs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:06:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23642845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderNerd/pseuds/ReaderNerd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Slightly AU. Present-day. Jack works in L.A and has not officially met Gibbs, who works in D.C. Leon sends Gibbs to L.A to help an agent, Sloane, out on the serial killer case they are struggling to solve. Eventual Slibbs.</p><p>Voice dripping with sarcasm, Jack responded, “Oh, why would I be offended?” “It’s not like you’re implying my life’s work is useless.” Turning, she continued down the beach, muttering to herself, “What an ass, fifteen years, and my report is still just as accurate, unbelievable.” </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>180</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Order</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Characters are not my own. Thanks to the NCIS writers.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Leon, we don't need D.C.'s help," she coolly responded, momentarily forgetting it was her boss she was speaking to. Not her mentor and close friend of the past seventeen years.</p><p>Gripping the phone tighter, she continued, "I already have five agents working the case, along with every outside agency in California supporting us. I know we can get this guy, Leon. Please just give us a little more time," she pleaded, which she never did, but right now, she was desperate, feeling her case pulled out from under her.</p><p>"Jack, listen," he explained, "It's still your case. I'm simply sending you another Special Agent, to hopefully give you a different perspective on what you have so far. I want you to run what you've got by him; you never know what you might discover working together."</p><p>Although his tone softened, there was still steel behind the words, letting her know she was talking to the Director of NCIS and not her friend. Still, she was not one to back down when she felt she was in the right.</p><p>"And what makes this agent so much more special than <em>my</em> special agents? We passed the same evals to earn the <em>special </em>in our titles," she barked, unwilling to have all the hard work for the past six months taken away and given to some East Coast "Special Agent."</p><p>"His names Gibbs, he's the best agent I've ever worked alongside. He has a way of seeing things that few others can. Similar to yourself," he added, trying to soften the blow with the truth.</p><p>"Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" Jack asked in astonishment.</p><p>"Yes. You know Gibbs?" he asked.</p><p>"No," she hastily replied, unwilling to mention the time long ago they had met. "I just know of him. Gibbs has a bit of a reputation Leon, as I'm sure you are well aware," she added pointedly.</p><p>Unwilling to waver, Leon responded, "He'll be at the L.A. office by three, so be ready."</p><p>"Come on, Leon," she tried one last time.</p><p>Cutting her off, he put an end to the conversation, "Jack, I've given my orders. Hand over your files and evidence to Gibbs, and work with him to stop this serial killer. I don't want any more dead sailors due to this psychopath!" With that, he hung up the phone.</p><p>"God, I hope this works," he muttered to himself, "and help those poor agents that are going to get caught in the hurricane that's about to hit." He could only hope the turmoil of having his two best, but at times bull-headed agents, working together, would result in the capture and end of these murders.</p><p>Jack sat back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>"Leroy. Jethro. Gibbs," she whispered in disbelief. <em>I doubt he will remember. It <strong>has</strong> been years; there's no way he's going to remember, it was so brief. Our paths barely crossed. Has it been fifteen years?</em></p><p>Fifteen years ago, Leon had failed at convincing her to leave sunny California and move closer to him, where he was working in D.C. However, he had been successful in convincing her NCIS would be a good fit, and she should join. He was her rock during those years, still was, and so, she had headed his advice.</p><p>It was 2005, and she was in Glynco, GA, at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center. She was finishing up her NCIS basic training, while Gibbs was, well, she wasn't exactly sure what he was doing there that day. She wished she had just kept her thoughts to herself all those years ago. It would've saved her years of anxiousness over not knowing. Now, it was sure to be, for her anyway, a slightly uncomfortable working situation.</p><p><em>He's coming here, and I'm supposed to work <strong>with</strong> him</em>, she thought, chewing on her thumbnail. She simply wanted to forget that first "meeting" she had with Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.</p><p>Gibbs had made a name for himself within NCIS. Recruits worth their salt had heard the stories and read the reports that went with Leroy Gibbs and his team. They had a class dedicated to his cases for goodness sake. Shaking her head, she marveled, <em>I still don't understand how I didn't, in all my time in Georgia, see a picture of him. I know I would have remembered if I had seen one before, no way I would have forgotten.</em></p><p>She had been doing well in her training; the Army had made sure of that. After quickly finishing the field courses, she had taken a series of evaluations to see where she would best fit within the department. No surprise to her Commander, she had done very well in profiling and psych.</p><p>"Sloane, we are going to have you do a psych analysis for a case the D.C office is working on," he had told her, handing her a nameless file.</p><p>Excited at the opportunity to prove her worth, and start real work, Jack had spent the next sixteen hours working on the profile. To her embarrassment, she found herself slightly admiring the suspect, both in looks, intelligence, and personality. Hoping he wasn't wanted for anything too serious, she finished the report and sought out her Commander to hand-deliver it, finding him in his office.</p><p>The Commander was surprised to see her so early the next morning as she came in and set the file down next to the coffee he was drinking as he was checking his emails.</p><p>"That was quick work," he said, opening the profile. Scanning it, he hid a smile at the accuracy. <em>My boss is going to love this. The Special Agent, probably not as much. Probably should keep the author of the report blacked out,</em> he thought.</p><p>"Thanks, Sir. Any chance I can know what the suspect is wanted for?" she asked, trying to keep the curiosity from showing in her voice.</p><p>With a chuckle, her Commander responded, "Actually, it's not a suspect." "He's an agent," he supplied, with a shrug and a hint of remorse at his deceptiveness.</p><p>"An agent?" she repeated, trying to understand why he had asked her to do a profile on an agent.</p><p>"Yes, my boss is new to her post. She asked me to show evidence that would support my recommendation for L.A's new Forensic Psychologist. Sorry for the secrecy, this was the quickest way I could think of to convince her you are the right fit."</p><p>Not wanting to get her hopes up at the prospect of getting to do what she loved, in the city she loved, she asked, "How do you know that will be enough?"</p><p>"Believe me. You have provided Director Shepard a blueprint on how to best reason with Agent Gibbs. Trust me; it's enough," he finished with a laugh and a shake of his head. He couldn't believe the agency's fortune at getting Sloane on their team. He needed to make sure he thanked Leon for sending her their way.</p><p>"That file you gave me was on Special Agent Gibbs?" she stuttered out. Raising her voice, "You had me analyze and profile Special. Agent. Gibbs?" she accused, forgetting momentarily who she was speaking to, and that his office door was open.</p><p>"What's this about Special Agent Gibbs," a terrifyingly calm voice asked, swiftly bringing Jack's and the Commander's discussion to an abrupt end.</p><p>Spinning around, she collided with, at this particular moment, the last person she wanted to see. <em>The </em>p<em>ictures and gossip about that glare don't do you justice,</em> she thought, trying to ignore the steel blue look he was aiming at her. Slowly, to show she was unfazed by his presence and proximity, she turned back to her Commander. Eyes pleading with him to get her out of this situation, she asked, "Did you need me for anything further, Sir?"</p><p>"Ah, Gibbs, just the agent I was getting ready to look for, do come in," the Commander smoothly covered. "Lieutenant, you're dismissed. We'll finish up on the rest of your assignment at sixteen-hundred hours," he added, giving Sloane a nod of his head, her cue to leave.</p><p>Unable to catch much of the conversation that followed, she quickly took her leave of the Commander's office.</p><p>"You gunna tell me what that was about, Commander?" she heard him ask as she rounded the corner of the long hallway. Out of earshot, she was unable to catch the reply.</p><p>She tried to get information on how the conversation had ended when she met up with the Commander that afternoon. But, he was tight-lipped. Instead, he merely handed over her first assignment and told her not to worry about it. Jack had her doubts. She was sure, by now, Gibbs had seen the profile she had written and was not happy about it. The question was, did he know who the author was? If she had to guess, Jack would say he would want to know who to blame for the new Director giving him trouble at work. Currently, she had her own issues with this new Director.</p><p>She didn't like being lied to and disliked it, even more when it was her new employer doing the lying. Were it not for Leon; she probably would have told the Director just where she could shove her report. She was disappointed at the probability that her profile would leave Gibbs with a negative view of her before she had even officially met him.</p><p>Already, she had a high level of respect for Agent Gibbs, thanks to the cases she had read about him and his team. And now, having delved into the psychosis of what made him, the man he was, she held him in even higher esteem. T<em>he pictures in his file, and getting to see him up close and personal didn't hurt, </em>Jack admitted, with a small smile.</p><p>Sighing, she looked down at her desk. This office was practically a second home to her after all these years. She had told herself years ago that it would be okay. She was going to be working in California. Gibbs and the Director were in D.C. She wouldn't need to worry about their paths crossing. It would be fine.</p><p>And it had been, for fifteen years. Yes, she had followed his career throughout the years, what decent agent wouldn't? But, it was always from a distance. From time-to-time, she got called to support the D.C office with a profile, but her communications went through Leon or Dr. Mallard.</p><p>Now, in a matter of hours, he would be here, in her office, wanting her simply to hand over her files. Stuffing down the admiration she felt for Gibbs and the embarrassment she felt thinking about him, she took a deep breath, "This is my case. He doesn't get to take it," she grumbled. All-the-while, heading towards her office to put together everything the team had on the case. I may be letting him in on the case, but I sure as hell won't be giving him the lead, she resolved. She was the team leader, and she was going to make damn sure he was aware of that when he arrived.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. California Dreamin'</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gibbs heads to California. Jack waits patiently, sort of, for his arrival.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gibbs was in the air by noon, having received Leon's orders to head to L.A. shortly after arriving to work that morning. There had been a short "discussion" over who was going to be the agent to help out in California. He was in the process of telling McGee, his most senior field agent, to pack a bag for the trip, when Leon stopped him, giving an order of his own.</p><p>"That's not who I had in mind, Gibbs," he interrupted, giving Gibbs a knowing look.</p><p>"Who, Torres?" he asked, doubtfully. "M'Gee will do better with a new team, he'll also be able to help with the FaceChat and InstaTweet stuff," he argued.</p><p>"I have no doubt McGee would do just fine in California, but I need my best agent there, and he's not it."</p><p>"Com' on Leon, No," Gibbs responded, having caught on to who he was intent on sending.</p><p>"California, Leon? I'd rather go to Afghanistan," he grumbled, knowing he wouldn't say no to a direct order if Leon gave it.</p><p>"Sorry, Gibbs, that's an order. Your flight leaves at noon. When you get to the L.A. office, you're going to want to find Agent Sloane," were his final words on the matter.</p><p>Glaring up the stairs as Leon headed into his office, he allowed himself seven seconds to be pissed. <em>California's full of fake people with egos the size of their houses. I've been there twice, and that was two times too many, </em>he thought. Settling on the fact that this was the way it was going to be, he grabbed his keys. He needed to stop at home to bring some clothes that would be suitable for California. His typical go bag wasn't going to work in this situation, <em>who knows how long I'm going to have to stay there, damn California! I can't believe I'm going back.</em></p><p>Arriving at the airport with twenty minutes to spare, Gibbs boarded and settled in for the six-hour flight. The time allowed him to look over the files Leon had sent with him. Leon had told him there were more files and evidence in L.A., and that he should ask for Sloane when he arrived. <em>This Sloane must think mighty high of himself. Why would Leon ask me to find him first, a profiler, instead of the team leader? I wouldn't want some West Coast agent coming and stealing my case, wonder how Jack feels about his profiler?</em> <em>Bet they don't like Sloane either,</em> Gibbs thought, deciding he probably wasn't going to be new friends with this agent.</p><p>He knew from Ducky that Sloane was a profiler. Valuing Ducky's view, and having a low tolerance when it came to psychologists, he had left communicating with L.A.'s profiler in Ducky's capable hands over the years.<em> I don't know much about Sloane, but his team leader, Jack, sure is thorough.</em> <em>Some of the best damn case notes I've ever read</em>, he thought, going back to the files.</p><p>"Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your trays and seats in their upright position," the flight attendant began their announcement to the cabin.</p><p>Pulled from his studying, he glanced down at his watch. He was shocked to discover he'd been looking over the files for the majority of the flight. Scribbling a note to himself, thinking, <em>I'd like to talk to Sloane about his profiling, there's something familiar in the tone of em'. Feel like I've read one.</em> Having an excellent memory, he was irked that he was unable to place when or where he would have come across a report by Sloane. He knew he had helped D.C. out with profiles over the years, but he couldn't remember ever reading one. For their cases, he had always gone off of Ducky's notes. At least it seems L.A. has some competent people working for them; maybe I won't have to call my team here to help; after all, he thought as he put the files away, getting ready for landing.</p><p>Thinking about heading to the hotel first, Gibbs changed his mind when he realized it was past 4'oclock. It had taken an hour to find his way out of the maze of LAX and get his rental car. He wanted to be able to put faces to the team he would be working with for the foreseeable future. So, despite being exhausted, and a bit grumpy, he headed his small rental car, <em>sure am going to miss my truck,</em> towards L.A.'s NCIS headquarters.</p><p>Merging on to I-5, he soon realized it was unlikely he would be reaching the office before five. Reaching for his phone to let Sloane know he was going to be late, he glanced in his rearview mirror to see a red Porsche speeding up behind him. The moment before impact, the Porsche whipped over into the left lane. "Damn West Coast drivers," he grumbled, releasing the tension in his shoulders and his grip on the steering wheel. Shaking his head, he decided to leave his phone on its clip and focus on not getting run off the road.</p><p>Frustrated, Jack scribbled down a note, taped it to her office door, and left. The past two hours, she had nervously been awaiting Gibbs's arrival. Wanting to get their first official meeting over with, she had decided to play nice, as best she could. First, sitting &amp; waiting patiently, with the files and evidence in her office. She was now agitated that he not only was late but had failed to call and let her know. She had sent the team home at five after it was clear Gibbs would not be showing up. Jack recognized she had only waited as long as she had because of her desperation to stop the killer. Her need to give the victims' families closure, trumped her small problem. <em>Damn East Coast manners</em>, she fumed. Now, an hour later, she was done too. She was frustrated, tired, and hungry as she got into her car and started her drive. Comforted by the thought that she would soon be at the beach, kept her composed as she sat in the horrible L.A. traffic.</p><p>Located between the NCIS offices and her home was Seal Beach. Seal Beach was not only a beach; it was the name of the small town Seal Beach resided. It was known for having the second-longest wooden pier in California, fantastic surfing, and great beach-side restaurants. It was a favorite place for Jack to go after work to unwind. Some of her favorite things to do at Seal Beach included; enjoying a stroll down the pier, a run along the beach, and good bourbon at Clancy's. However, her favorite part of Seal Beach was when she could grab her board from Joe, at Surf Shack,(he is kind enough to let her store it there) to do some sunset surfing. Yes, Jack loved Seal Beach. However, lately, a different reason was bringing Jack to her beloved beach.</p><p>Seal Beach happened to be home to the <span class="u">Naval Weapons Station Seal Beach</span> military base. It also was the crime scene for six murdered Navy men and women over the past six months. Jack's profile of the killer described him as a psychopath that has a vendetta against the Navy. There was a reason the bodies kept getting dumped on the same beach. As of yet, they were unable to figure out why. What they had discovered was that not a single victim worked at the weapons base. They were from all over L.A., but not one victim worked, lived, or had any other connection to Seal Beach.</p><p>The salt-filled wind flung Jack's hair from her face as she ran down the beach, allowing her time to process through the day's events. Breathing in the sea-filled air, she felt the ache she had been carrying in her shoulders all day begin to dissipate. Wanting to be where she said she'd be, Jack decided to keep the run short, in case he showed. Filling her aching lungs with another deep breath, she headed over to the pier. Walking the long pier helped put all her thoughts into perspective. Do a mental sorting of them. Standing at the end of the pier gazing at the pink and purple hues in the sky, she listened to the soft crashing of the waves. She couldn't help but relax and be comforted.</p><p>She came here not only to enjoy the beauty of the beach but to remember that there is still beauty after pain. She'd learned, through years of therapy, to process her pain from all those years ago correctly. The anxiety, and learning to let it in, had molded her to the agent she was today. This pain was different. Jack was a problem solver. Not being able to end the suffering for all the families was taking its toll on her.</p><p>With each new body showing up, the pain grew. Through her team's hard work, they thought they had figured out the killer's schedule. Today was the 23rd. With no new body today, that meant she had until the 29th before the next murder would happen. <em>That's if he does his dumping the same day as his killing, </em>she thought, grabbing her notepad to remind herself to check her files tomorrow.</p><p>Her grumbling stomach pointed out that all she had eaten was the hardboiled eggs with her morning coffee. With a sigh of disappointment that he was not going to show up, she decided it was time to call it. The excellent food at Clancy's and bourbon were calling her name. As she turned to leave, she paused. Not twenty feet in front of her, she saw him. He seemed to be studying something in her direction as she turned. From twenty feet, she could feel the pleasure in his smile, as it transformed his previously stern face. Meeting his gaze, she returned his smile with one of her own and a wave as she headed towards him, relieved that she was about to officially meet Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading and your feedback and kudos! The next chapter will be up soon. I'm sure Gibbs is more aware of the west coast agents' titles than I give him credit, but I want to play with the idea of his preconceived notion that Jack is a guy. Also, there are a lot of agents around the country and I can see Gibbs not bothering to know all of them if he doesn't have a reason to.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. They Meet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After several attempts to meet, Gibbs and Sloane finally do. Confusion ensues.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arriving at the office at half-past six, and irritated, Gibbs was unable to locate Jack or Sloane. The agent he had run into while looking, told him Jack had sent the team home at five and had then left around six.</p><p>"Well, can you tell me where Sloane's office is? Maybe I can still catch him," he asked the confused looking agent.</p><p>"The office is upstairs, but as I said, left around six," the agent answered. Having heard stories about Gibbs, he was unwilling to question his seeming confusion.</p><p><em>Damn, missed them both. What kind of lazy California hours do they run here? </em>Thanking the agent with a curt, "Thanks," and a tip of his hand to head, he headed for the stairs, deciding he'd take a look around anyways, learn the layout. Seeing the office door with a letter taped to it that had his name on the outside, he figured it must be Sloane's. Grabbing and quickly scanning the short note, irritation flashed over his face as he realized he had just missed him. Heading back downstairs, he hoped to find the agent to get a little more information from him.</p><p>"Can you tell me how far away Seal Beach is?" Gibbs asked.</p><p>"Not far, bout ten minutes on I-5S to HWY-22, from there, you will see signs."</p><p>Thanking the agent again, he returned to his car. He figured even if Sloane had left by the time he arrived, it would still be a useful trip.</p><p>As the agent said, the drive was fast. Arriving at Seal Beach, he reluctantly gave credit to California. He couldn't help but relax a little at the view in front of him. The Pacific Ocean was a sight to see at sunset. Achingly beautiful, a mixture of fierce reds and soft purples, filled the sky. A brilliant ball of orange hovered just above the horizon as it tried desperately to hold on to the last moments of daylight. It left him momentarily frozen as he took in the beauty of it. <em>Alright, California</em>, <em>I'll give you one for that. What else have you got?</em> He questioned, walking towards the pier where Agent Sloane had said to meet.</p><p>Surprised that there were so few people out on such a beautiful night, he had yet to see anyone that could be Sloane. There was a couple with two kids playing fetch with their retriever, and a few couples sitting on the beach enjoying each other and the sunset. Besides the odd fishermen, it seemed like no one else was out tonight. Heading down the pier, he stopped, noticing another person standing at the end.</p><p>It definitely wasn't Sloane, but she caught his attention. The rays of the setting sun bounced off her golden hair as she leaned slightly back from the railing as if welcoming all the warmth the rays would give. Her sudden laughter took him by surprise. He had been a bit intense of his appraisal of her, and her body language a moment ago seemed to suggest she was not having the best day. The sound of her laughter was all he needed to convince him he should approach her and introduce himself.</p><p>Walking the length of the pier, he was about twenty feet away, when she suddenly turned and met his gaze. Wanting her to feel comfortable, he dazzled with a sideways grin as a way of greeting. He was delighted when she not only returned the smile with one of her own that matched the brilliance of her hair; but also waved and started walking towards him. <em>Okay,</em> <em>California, point two</em>, he thought, efficiently closing the distance between them.</p><p>"Well, hello there!" she beamed at him. "Jacqueline," she offered, extending her hand. <em>Why did I just call myself Jacqueline, and not Jack or Sloane? </em>She thought. <em>You want him to see you as a woman, Jack, </em>she self-analyzed.</p><p>"Gibbs," he offered, shaking her hand. Smiling, but surprised at her friendliness. He didn't know if all Californians were this friendly, but he was thrilled that the beautiful brown-eyed, Jacqueline was. He continued, "It's nice to meet you," "Have you been enjoying the sunset?" he asked, nodding out to the sea. Seeing surfers speckled in the water, he added, "Does everyone in California surf?"</p><p>"I don't know about everyone, but I try to get my board out at least twice a week," she answered, eyes twinkling at the appraisal she saw in his eyes. "Do you surf?" she teasingly asked.</p><p>Laughing, he responded, "Nah, I'm sure the knees wouldn't be able to handle that anymore, they've seen enough action already." Regrettably, he realized that he would need to cut the conversation short. Putting business first, he asked, "I'm meeting a coworker out here. Thinkin' he may have already left. Have you happened to see a suit around here? Probably looks a little full of himself," he added.</p><p><em>A little full of himself? Him? He doesn't realize who he's talking to and thinks Sloane is a he! What would have given him that impression? </em>She was pulled from her thoughts as he cleared his throat.</p><p>"Sorry," she began, "You said you are looking for a coworker? You don't know what he looks like, though?" she asked, trying to find understanding in what he was saying.</p><p>"That's right; I'm just in from D.C and was supposed to meet him here," he replied.</p><p>His answer confirmed her suspicions. "I can't think of anyone fitting your description around here. People here tend to be fairly relaxed, no suits," she cheekily finished. As an afterthought, she added, "However, I did see someone that looked like they might work for the Army or Navy at the end of the pier."</p><p><em>He has no idea who I am, but maybe that's a good thing, I can start fresh</em>, she realized with a smile.</p><p>"Oh? I didn't see anyone else on the pier." "I was slightly distracted, though," he smiled impishly. <em>Damn,</em> i<em>t looks like I'll be meeting Sloane after all. I was ready to see if Jacqueline wanted to grab a drink</em>. With regret, he continued, "I hate to cut this short, but if you can point me in the direction you last saw him, I'd like to see if I can catch him."</p><p>Jack recognized she needed to come clean sooner rather than later. After all, he didn't seem like the type to enjoy games.</p><p>Still finding the situation amusing, she asked, "You're looking for Sloane, right?"</p><p>It was amazing how swiftly his body language shifted; soft and flirtatious one second, business and intense the next. "How'd you know I was looking for Sloane?" he demanded.</p><p>"I happen to know <em>her</em>," she answered, hoping he'd hear the importance of the statement.</p><p><em>Know her?</em> Gibbs thought <em>that couldn't be right</em>.</p><p>Holding her hand out again, she smiled, "Let's try this again, it's nice to meet you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I'm Special Agent Jacqueline Sloane..."</p><p>
  <em>Wait! Jacqueline...Sloane...She's, Sloane? Sloane is Jacqueline...the profiler? And, Jacqueline, shit, that must be Jack, the team leader. Damnit, why didn't Leon say? Why didn't I ask? How the hell did I get this so wrong?</em>
</p><p>Returning to what she was saying, he caught enough to realize that yes, he had indeed made a first-rate ass of himself.</p><p>"….Forensic Psychologist, and Team Leader of the best NCIS team in L.A," she finished, unsure how much the stunned man had heard.</p><p>"Jack. You go by Jack?" he managed to ask, desperately trying to work through what she had revealed.</p><p>Taking in his shocked face, she took pity and decided she needed to give him a few moments to process and compose himself as she further explained.</p><p>As kindly as she could, she elaborated, "I have a dual job at NCIS. Emails are titled to Sloane when I'm working a profile, and Jack when it is about a team case. It makes things easier for everyone in the building. Jacqueline became Jack some years ago. We are all so used to it; we didn't think of the potential confusion it could lead to in the agency," she finished.</p><p>Slightly tilting her head and offering a small shrug of her shoulders, she waited, giving him time to process all that she had shared. <em>They weren't kidding; he doesn't give anything away, </em>she thought, studying his face to see signs he was ready to talk. Walking over to the nearby bench, she sat, attempting to give him space.</p><p>His thoughts were a jumble. <em>The way Leon spoke of her, hadn't he mentioned their time in the military together? Some sort of military raid, in which they took part? I assumed since women weren't allowed to do ground combat until 2013, she was a he. Duck! Ducky had referred to her as his charming Californian twin, made it sound like she was a man too! But I recognized the style of her analysis on the serial killer. Where would I have read that? Have we met before? No. No way, I forgot a meeting with her. I must have seen one of her reports from Ducky or Leon throughout the years.</em></p><p>He'd sworn to never read another psychologist's analysis after my only time reading one. It had been years ago, but after the trouble, it had caused him with Jenny, he wasn't going to be soon forgetting.</p><p><em>Jacqueline! Holy hell! It couldn't be. Could it?</em> Trying to slow the racing of his thoughts, he brought his attention back to Jack, only to realize she was no longer standing next to him.</p><p>Looking over to where she sat, he was struck by her peaceful composure and instantly felt calmed. She didn't seem to mind that he needed time to process. She was looking out at the ocean, allowing him to enjoy her beautiful profile. Appreciating her thoughtfulness, he realized he needed to say something to move past the awkwardness that was wholly his creating. He was unable to stop the slight smile before he masked it with a stern frown and headed towards the bench.</p><p>Taking a seat, he looked over at her, "Yes, let's try this again." Extending his hand, dimple showing, he began, "Nice to meet you, Special Agent Sloane, and according to Duck, Forensic Psychologist extraordinaire."</p><p>Taking the compliment for the olive branch it was, she shook his hand, not even trying to hide the amusement she was feeling about the entire situation. Offering an olive branch of her own, she replied, "Now that we have that out of the way, why don't we talk about why you're here."</p><p>"Let me start by saying those are some damn fine reports you and your team have put together," he praised. "Looks like an intriguing case we have."</p><p>"Case we have?" she questioned as her angst over jurisdiction instantly put her on edge.</p><p>"Well, yeah, that's why I'm here, Sloane," he answered, unsure where she was going with the remark.</p><p>Standing and squaring her body in front of his, she looked down at him and defiantly laid her claim. "This is my case, Gibbs. I'm happy to have you support us, but I'll be damned if I let someone come and take it from me." "I don't care how <em>special </em>of an agent you are," she finished, eyes clashing with his suddenly amused looking ones. <em>What the hell is he laughing at? She</em> inwardly fumed.</p><p>Well, California won't be boring, he thought, as he was now the one unable to mask their amusement at the situation.</p><p>Refraining from yelling at a man she had met only ten minutes ago, there was ice in her voice as she calmly asked, "You want to tell me what part of this is funny?"</p><p>"Jack, stop," he answered, holding up a hand. "Rule thirty-eight, your case, your lead," he finished simply.</p><p><em>Well, damn. That's not how I envisioned this conversation going. All the rumors I've heard, I was ready for a fight. And what the hell is rule thirty-eight? I don't know how this is going to end up, but it's for damn sure not going to be boring, </em>she thought, sitting back down with a sigh of relief and as much grace as she could muster.</p><p>His bumping into her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts. Looking over to meet his attentive eyes, he offered further assurance to his understanding of his position on the case with his next question.</p><p>"So, Boss, what did you want to show me?"</p><p>Getting to her feet, she gestured for him to follow her down to the beach. "As you know—every victim we have found has been dumped here, most in the same general area. I'd like to show you, see what you think," she finished pointing at a spot down the beach.</p><p>As they walked, Gibbs remembered his earlier confusion about her name and the familiar-sounding profile. "Say, Jack," he began. "Before I forget. Your profiles, you always sign them as Sloane, or was there ever a time you used Jacqueline?"</p><p>Jack stopped walking. <em>Well Shit.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading. I really do have a plan of where this story is going. Scenes that I think will be shorter are simply turning into full chapters. Thanks for the kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Understanding and Planning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gibbs and Jack finally have a conversation about Jack's report. New plans take shape on how to catch the serial killer. </p><p>Voice dripping with sarcasm, Jack responded, “Oh, why would I be offended?” “It’s not like you’re implying my life’s work is useless.” Turning, she continued down the beach, muttering to herself, “What an ass, fifteen years, and my report is still just as accurate, unbelievable.” </p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Jack?" her sudden halt had him jumping out of the way to avoid tripping over her. "Jack, you okay," he asked again, as she still hadn't moved from where she'd stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years of negotiations and three failed marriages, he had taught Gibbs how to get information from someone. Some needed gentle prodding. Others, a steel glare and silence, was all it took. Then there were those, like his fourth wife, where you prayed they didn't have any weapons on them when you "talked". Jack, it seemed, was a mix of the first two. Still not responding, he tried for the firmer approach. "Hey, Jack! Where you at?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, sorry, I heard you. The question took me by surprise is all," she managed, the tension in her stomach instantly reemerging. "What made you ask about that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was reading your profile on the killer, which is not something I normally do," he started. "There was something about it, I don't know, it just caught my attention," he shrugged, then continued, "Like, I had seen the style of writing before. Only, I don't typically read psychologist reports, leave that to Duck." Smirking, he concluded, "Lawyers and Psychologists." "No, offense."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voice dripping with sarcasm, she responded, "Oh, why would I be offended?" "It's not like you're implying my life's work is useless." Turning, she continued down the beach, muttering to herself, "What an ass, fifteen years, and my report is still just as accurate, unbelievable."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ha! I knew it; I knew that report was yours," he yelled after her in vindication.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What if it was?" she yelled, turning back at him, eyes daring him to challenge her. Waving her hands, she continued, "What if, God forbid, Agent Gibbs." "I did my job, and wrote a report on an unknown person, under the orders of my Commander?" she finished hands on her hips, eyes defiant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The Commander… It was you, in his office that day," he accused. "Do you know the living hell you created for me?" he glared down at her as they now stood toe to toe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Me?" she accused, jabbing a finger in his direction, not letting his height or the intensity of his glare intimidate her. "I wrote the truth; they are your damn characteristics. I can't help that you tend to be a first-rate ass, that's on you," she finished, face now flushed with anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For several heated seconds, his intense scowl mirrored hers as they stared at each other. Jack's large, expressive eyes read like the headlines of a newspaper. Gibbs saw how rapidly her anger melted. In a matter of seconds, her wrath changed from black storm clouds to a glassy lake. Although she had calmed down, she had not backed down and seemed to, yet again, be waiting for his response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fierceness and unapologetic nature had taken him by surprise. <em><span>But why should it? Look at the positions she holds at NCIS. You stepped in it this time, </span></em>he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, Jack," he conceded, shoulder dropping slightly, "Why'd you have to go and write such a goddamn thorough report," he stated bluntly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voice tinged with remorse, she explained, "It was my job, Gibbs. I honestly didn't know who the subject was until after I turned it in. I was not happy about it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's right," he replied, surprised at the sudden memory, "You and the Commander, you were arguing about something when I stopped in that day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Relief washed over her as she realized his anger at her seemed to be melting, "Yes, it was my first profile; it's what got me hired into NCIS. The Commander and I, we were disagreeing on the deceptive nature of The Director's plans for using my work. Then you came in and put a stop to the conversation."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Offering an apologetic smile, he answered, "Sure would have made my life easier if you weren't quite so good at your job from the start. Guess I'm thankful that the report's now destroyed." "The only way Director Shepard could keep me from retiring was to promise to destroy it," he smiled, recalling the memory of his small victory.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That's not why it got destroyed,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jack thought. <em><span>Oh well, might as well let the Director have this one, no harm in her taking the credit.</span></em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad it got destroyed. Although, I think I might have a copy floating around in one of my file cabinets," she teased. "If you give me any more trouble while you're here, I'll be forced to go dig it out," she added cheekily, causing a frown and narrowed brows from Gibbs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If that's the case, you might as well find that report as soon as you're back in the office," he grinned, unapologetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ass," was her only reply as she effectively ended the conversation turning and continuing down the beach, not looking to see if he was following.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Proud of it," he laughed, picking up his pace to catch back up with her, no shame in the view he was enjoying as he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching the spot where they had discovered the last body, she stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This the place?" he asked, walking up behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, the last body was discovered here. All the others, within a hundred yards, give or take."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No one's seen anything or reported anyone unusual in the area?" he asked, scanning up and down the beach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing. A couple reports of bonfires on the beach, and some rowdy surfers, but they haven't led to anything," she supplied, as they turned and starting walking back to the parking lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How long have you had the beach under surveillance?" he asked, knowing, at this point, it wasn't a matter of if, but how long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack's eyebrow arched, impressed with his questions, "Almost two months now," she answered. "I was convinced we'd catch him last month when we figured out his pattern." Rubbing her forehead, not attempting to hide the anger at their failure, she continued, "Then, on the 14th, we got a call that there was another body."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shifting his body to lean against his car, he offered truth, "Not your fault Jack, sounds like you've been doing everything you can."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, well, it isn't enough, is it. Why do you think Leon sent you?" she responded, tight-lipped, kicking the gravel from under her foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking in her exhausted state and knowing his own, Gibbs put an end to the conversation, "It has nothing to do with your ability to lead your team. You know Leon better than that." Narrowing eyes, adding, "Think I got an idea for how I can help, got to think on it, though." Nudging her shoulder, he finished, "Let's call it a day, pick this up tomorrow."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, okay, sounds good," she answered, heading to her car. Calling over her shoulder, she added, "Bring the coffee tomorrow, Probie. I take mine with lots of sugar." At the sound of his laughter, she finished, "See you at seven, none of that East Coast tardiness crap you showed today."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grinning, Gibbs pulled out of the parking lot towards his hotel, and sleep. He was feeling slightly guilty over his enjoyment of the last few hours. After all, he was in California to help catch a serial killer, not fall for his temporary boss.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on, rule 12 Gibbs, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he chided himself, giving a mental head slap. <em><span>Not really a coworker,</span></em> he argued, unsure who he was rooting for to win the argument.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing his thoughts to return to the case, and not Jack, he recalled the idea he'd had of how they might be able to catch the killer. In his tiredness, it seemed like a plausible idea. However, he wanted to sleep on it, mull it over before he mentioned it to her. His feelings for her might make his plan a little more complicated. Also, he wasn't sure how she would respond to doing undercover work, especially since it would be with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't think I imagined the interest I saw in her eyes. Suppose it could have been anger</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Gibbs thought. He'd seen both emotions so frequently with his exes that sometimes the two emotions became one. <em><span>I'll find out tomorrow</span></em>, were his final thought as he drifted into unconsciousness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankful to finally have eaten, Jack left Clancy's and headed home. She'd thought about inviting Gibbs, but decided against it. Now was not the time to go down that road; they had a killer to catch. Besides, she needed time to sort through those feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing several missed calls and knowing he was anxiously waiting on an update, she called Leon. Even though it was past midnight for him, she laughed when he picked up on the second ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, Leon, he arrived… Yes, he figured it out rather quickly actually," she answered, smiling at the ridiculousness of the past few hours. "Honestly, it took him longer to realize that who he was talking to was his boss than it took him to place me as the author of that damn report."…. "It's not funny, Leon! Do you know how embarrassed I was?" she scolded, unable to hide the laughter from her voice. "In any case, we've hashed it out; I think we understand each other, shouldn't be any more problems."… "Leon, stop, that was not a joke."…. "Yes, we will be picking things up first thing in the morning. He mentioned that he had an idea; I'll let you know if it leads to anything."…. "Okay, thanks, Leon, you too." she hung-up the call just as she was pulling into the parking spot in front of her condo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heading for bed immediately after showering, desperate for sleep after the long day, Jack took a few moments to reflect. Pleased with how the night had ended, she figured she'd finally be able to sleep. Leon seemed happy too that they both had made it through their first meeting relatively unscathed. She was disturbed by Leon's prediction about how she and Gibbs would get on and strength of her sudden feelings towards him. It's just the case, she told herself, relieved to have someone with his abilities helping. <em><span>I don't care what Leon says. I'm not attracted to Gibbs, </span></em>were her final thoughts, before sleep stole her away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting off the elevator the next morning, Jack was not surprised to see Gibbs already making himself at home with her team. Nash was wildly waving his hands as he retold one of his stories, no doubt, with a few embellishments. Jamal shook his head at Nash's ridiculous claims and had Gibbs smirking as the two reminded him of his agents back in D.C.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grateful, he had taken her order on the coffee seriously; she grabbed the cup sitting on her desk, giving him a thankful cheer with it. "So, what do we have today? Anything new?" she asked the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three eyes met, deciding who would be the one to share their idea, "Yeah, boss. We think Gibbs might have an idea of setting up a sting," Jamal stepped up and shared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, yeah?" she asked, eyebrows rising, "Do share, Agent Gibbs."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gibbs took a breath; he was unsure how she would respond to the suggestion and didn't want it to come off as railroading her investigation. "We talked yesterday that you've been surveying the beach, but from a distance. I thought it might be time to put eyes on the beach, a more direct approach."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying not to be defensive, she explained, "We can't increase our presence Gibbs, or we will scare the killer off. That beach is our best lead."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yup, know that, Jack."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her understanding was quick, "You're talking undercover work, aren't you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jamal and Nash exchanged glances, finding it hard to believe this was the first case Jack and Gibbs had worked with one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling, he asked, "Now, can you think of anyone you know that has done extensive undercover work?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not sending you in there alone, you're too new to the case," she argued, seeing where he was going with this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right. It would probably be a good idea to have someone that has detailed insight on the case and understands the mind of the scumbag." Tilting his head, he asked, "You know anyone that would fit that, Jack?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I might," she answered, meeting his scrutiny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You two decide all this last night?" Jamal asked, looking between the two agents, interrupting the close looks Gibbs and Jack were giving each other. "Cause you know, it sounds like you have already planned this all out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," she answered, "but Gibbs is right. It makes sense. No offense Nash, Jamal, I don't think anyone would buy we were a couple. This seems like the best bet we have of catching him. Today's the 24th, and we know he dumps the bodies within 24 hours of the killings, so that gives us three days to set up and be ready to go. I want Gibbs and me to be in position by the 27th," she finished giving her orders, looking around the room for the team's agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sounds good," "You got it, Boss," her team replied, both leaving the squad room to get started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You okay with this, Jack?" he softly asked, now that the room was empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Showing full confidence, she answered, "Of course, why wouldn't I be?" "It's a solid plan. And hey, I'll be able to surf while on the job, that doesn't happen every day, does it?" she finished, turning back to her computer to hide the emotions playing out on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Undercover with Gibbs? What the hell did I just agree to?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She thought as she began an email. <em><span>This had better work</span></em>. . .</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We are nearing the end of their story. Thank you to all that are still reading, and offering support through kudos and comments. Only one, maybe two, more chapters.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Gibbs' Rules</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Plans are put into place, and day one of the undercover work takes place. Jack and Gibbs hope to control their growing feelings for each other as they are pushed closer together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The phone had been ringing nonstop after receiving the good-to-go orders. Convincing Leon hadn’t taken much once his two best agents laid out the plan. Giving his okay, he made sure to let Jack know she owed him a drink the next time he was in California. </p><p>“Don’t even pretend you don’t know why,” he responded as she’d started arguing. To Gibbs’s surprise, she’d blushed a shade of beet that reached her ears. </p><p>“Shut it, Leon,” she said, disconnecting the call to the sound of his laughter. </p><p>Leaning back in his chair, Gibbs looked up from the phone, “Bet that’s an interesting story, care to share?” </p><p>Moving close, she leaned in and whispered, “You’re right. It’s a damn good story.” “Too bad you don’t get to hear it,” she finished patting his chest and leaving the room, much to his disappointment. </p><p>The plan the team had put together was straightforward. The autopsy report showed victims had been killed somewhere between two to twelve hours before being discovered on the beach. Leading them to believe they had a chance of catching him if they were in place by the 27th. Because the victims were not from Seal Beach, Jack had concluded the killer was targeting people visiting the beach. </p><p>“We think he is targeting weekend travelers staying near the area who at some point go to the beach. It’s too much of a coincidence that not a single victim is from the town.”</p><p>“Rule 39, no such thing as a coincidence,” Gibbs cut in, shrugging at the furrowed brow and side glance she gave him at the interruption.</p><p>“As I was saying, this creep is identifying his victims as navy personnel and knows they don’t live in the area, he must be observing the area for several days before the murders.”</p><p>Meeting his Boss’s eyes to gauge her reaction to the situation, Nash confirmed, “So you’ll need a hotel room for the weekend?” </p><p>“Yes,” she nodded, “Thursday through Sunday. We know he will kill on or before the 29th, so we want to cover that window.” <em>Three days, I’m going to be sharing a room with him for three days.</em> The turmoil she was feeling didn’t show as she continued, “We’re looking for someone personable, friendly, maybe a surfer. He blends in with the beachgoers; takes the time to find his victims.” Taking in the stern faces around her, she finished, “It’s a simple plan. Gibbs and I will be just what he is looking for, a Navy couple enjoying their weekend at the beach.” “We have two days, let’s get to work.” </p><p>In the days that followed, the upswing in activity at the office was noticeable even to visitors.</p><p>Agents were coming and going---<em>all</em> with questions and requests for Jack. Struck by her pose, Gibbs couldn’t help but stand back and take it in. To the untrained eye, what looked like chaos was, in fact, a system she and her team had perfected over the years. The ebb and flow of agents and techs coming and going showed, despite the mocking the L.A agency received for their laid-back, surfer’s lifestyle, it was all a ruse. When it came to their work, Jack and her team demonstrated why NCIS held the highest proficiency rating across all agencies. </p><p>Nash and Jamal were at the top of the list when it came to appreciating who their Boss was. They knew their leader well, understood what she wanted from them, and didn’t disappoint—demonstrating what Grace would call balance. Balance in life and work.  </p><p>Scrutinizing the way the team worked together, Gibbs was struck by the way they stayed grounded, given the severe nature of the work. Sometimes their humor turned dark, but he knew they used it to cope with the seriousness of the case, not allowing it to darken who they were. Someone, he would guess their psychologist team leader, had taught them well. It was the very thing Grace had been working with him on for the past five years. He couldn’t help but admire the work and the woman. </p><p>Nothing seemed to faze her. Gibbs’ response to the inquiries she was receiving would have been a squinted stare that made the questionnaire turn and leave. Jack? She charmed. When the techs came with a list of questions, she smiled her appreciation, thanked the techs for their work—all while laying out her thoughts for the backstory. </p><p>Eyes twinkling, “Let’s make Gibbs the one in the Navy, you don’t mind being the bait, do you, Gibbs?” </p><p>“You want me to have Leon send me my uniform?” “I hear I dazzle in it,” he smirked. </p><p>Ignoring him, she answered the techs, “No, uniform. Keep him casual; hat, t-shirt.” Looking at him, she continued, “he already screams military, just look at his hair.” Taking in his less than amused face caused her to want to tease him more. <em>Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought.</em> </p><p>The techs, use to her banter, thanked her as they got to work, finishing the last few items they needed to be ready. This type of interaction was the norm for the team. Disagreements that arose rarely turned into full-blown arguments. Surprising everyone, there had only been one disagreement that had turned to a dispute between the two lead agents. It had taken place the day before they were going undercover </p><p>“FBI is coming in today for a final update, we need to be ready to show them what we have by three,” she’d told the team. </p><p>“Who’d they assign?” he asked, looking up as he shuffled the papers on his newly assigned desk.</p><p>Not willing to give him full eye contact, she answered, “His names Bobby, have you heard of him?”</p><p>“Don’t think so, he ever work in D.C?”</p><p>“No, no, I don’t think he has.” </p><p>Not missing the knowing looks Jamal and Nash were giving each other, he tried shifting the conversation away from whatever had her suddenly on edge. “So, why do we need the FBI’s help at all?”</p><p>The chime of the elevator, and the occupant that emerged, temporarily stopped the conversation. Jack’s raised eyebrows and a swift shake of her head had Gibbs sitting down at his desk. Bobby, he assumed, had just walked into the squad room. </p><p>Thirty minutes later, he was heated. Jamal and Nash had wisely offered to walk Bobby out and get themselves some coffee. Getting onto the elevator, they watched as Gibbs got up and headed over to her desk. </p><p>“Jack, you can’t be serious!” </p><p>“What would you have me do?” she defended, coming from around her desk. “You heard him; we need the extra manpower for surveillance.” </p><p>Standing in the middle of the squad room, close enough she could feel his breath, he argued, “There’s got to be a better way. They’re going to take this case from you as soon as you have a solid suspect; you’ve got to see that.” </p><p>“You think I don’t know he is going to <em>try </em>to take this case?” she said, hands fisting at her sides. “It’s <em>not</em> going to happen. I won’t let it.”</p><p>“But <em>Sloane-y,”</em> he mocked, “You and Bobby, you’re a special team. Remember how well you worked together on the smuggling case?” </p><p>“That was a long time ago, Gibbs, back off.” Eyes steadily, meeting his, she finished, “He’s a good agent. The FBI stays.”</p><p>He was wise not to push any further. He’d already overstepped, letting his jealousy over the tan-faced agent show. With a sigh of surrender, he held up his hands. </p><p>“You’re the Boss, Boss.” </p><p>Before responding, she took a breath of her own to calm her racing heart, “It’s been a long day, I think it’s time to call it,” she said, leaning onto her desk. “You going to be ready tomorrow?” </p><p>Offering her a small smile, he assured, “We’re ready. A helluva team you got, Jack. You’d fit in well in D.C.” </p><p>The admiration for her team helped ease the tension that had built. “Thanks,” “Let’s see if you still feel that way in three days. Proximity has a way of bringing all kinds of things to the surface.” <em>Some things that I’m going to have to work hard to hide</em> she realized. “I’ll see you in the morning, Gibbs; we’ll go over any last-minute details before check-in at 4.”</p><p>“I’ve got it, Jack, don’t worry,” he smiled, “it’s going to work.” Heading for the elevator, he threw over his shoulder, “Night.” With a sigh, he leaned his head against the wall of the elevator. This was going to be a long weekend if he couldn’t reign in his reactions to her. She’s<em> going to be close, so you better get it figured out.</em> </p><p>The next afternoon, Gibbs stepped off the elevator, grabbing their luggage, and following Jack to the room, they would call theirs for the next three days. Coming in, he was pleased to see a couch that looked comfortable enough to claim. The room also had a king-size bed that seemed to take up half the space, a small mini bar, and a balcony that offered a stunning view of the Pacific. </p><p>Taking in their new surroundings, he commented, “Not bad, definitely had worse.” </p><p>“Room or partner?” she asked half-joking. </p><p> Eyebrow arched, and making no guise for the desire that sprung to his eyes, he answered. “You’ve seen my file, a definite improvement.” Invading her space and lifting her hair into his hands, he continued, “She smells a lot better too.” Dropping her hair, he stood taking her in, his face soft as he admired the sun-dress, and the sunnier person wearing it. “Yes, much better,” he said, eyes soaking in the warmth coming from hers and the deep swallow she took.  </p><p>The thump of his bag dropping off the couch broke their spell, giving Jack a chance to calm her nerves as she looked from the ditched bag, back to the bed. Trying hard to stop the blush at his proximity and topic, she assured him, “The beds plenty big for both of us,” “No reason to sleep on the couch.”</p><p>Stepping away from her and placing her suitcase on the bed, he shrugged, “Don’t mind the couch, reminds me of home.”</p><p>She knew and appreciated what he was trying to do. They needed to be comfortable with each other; it wouldn’t do to have either of them unable to play their part once they left the room. He also wanted her to know he respected her space. I’m<em> just not sure how much space I want him to give me.</em>  </p><p> “Should we head down to the beach?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Take a walk on the pier? I hear it’s a great view,” he smiled, remembering their first meeting. </p><p>“Y-yes,” <em>“</em>Let me just grab a sweater, the evenings get chilly here.”</p><p>Sweater in place, Gibbs offered his hand. Staring, she momentarily forgot what she was supposed to be doing, it’s<em> just a hand, Jack, take it</em>, she ordered her muddled brain. </p><p>“Jack,” he chuckled as they walked down the corridor towards the elevator, “you want to lighten your grip, we’re just takin’ a walk.”</p><p>“Ass,” she muttered, loosening her hand, only to feel him give it a gentle squeeze. </p><p>Taking the short walk towards the pier, they noted the other agents. Nash and two FBI agents would be monitoring those coming and going from the hotel. Jamal, Bobby, and his agents would be keeping eyes on the beach, parking lot, and surrounding businesses. They all had strict orders to watch and not engage. They didn’t want to scare the killer off. Gibbs was hoping Bobby would be anywhere but the beach. Deciding against wires to communicate with them, they would instead check in each evening from their room. With the various cameras they had in play, the support team would be able to take pictures of everyone they saw. There was enough personnel around to reach them quickly should an emergency arise. Otherwise, it was a phone call or text. </p><p>Their goal tonight was to be visible at the beach and to observe. The rest of the team would gather still images from the surveillance cameras to compare as the weekend continued.</p><p>Walking hand-in-hand, the conversation was light, just another couple taking an evening stroll enjoying each other’s company. </p><p>“So what can you tell me about these rules you keep quoting,” she asked, as they reached the beginning of the long pier. </p><p>Stopping, he leaned back against the rail, “Not much to tell. Rules I live by, my own guide book you could say.”</p><p>“So, you have a rule about everything?” she asked, a hint of flirtation. </p><p>Not meaning to be vague, he answered, “Most are for work, but there’s some... .,” noticing Jack’s sudden interest at the activity over his shoulder, he paused. Reaching for her hand, he stepped behind her, whispering as he kept his voice light, “What do you see?” </p><p>Pressed against her back, he wrapped his arms around either side of her holding onto the railing. Leaning into his chest, she couldn’t help but feel his warmth as she quietly spoke. </p><p>“A man, he went under the pier, it’s probably just a teenager, but he looked shifty, kept looking around.”</p><p>Leaning in and nuzzling her ear, he asked, “You sure you haven’t read my rules somewhere, Jack?” </p><p>“Wh-What are you talking about, of course not.”</p><p>“Rule 35-always watch the watchers,” he said, turning her around to face him, and get a better look of where she had said he went. “Was he with anyone else,” he asked, leaning in close enough to feather the question over her lips, giving the impression of an embrace. </p><p> “It didn’t look like it, should we go check it out?” she answered, unable to stop herself from licking her lips as she stared into his penetrating eyes. </p><p>Drawn to her motion, he paused, staring at her lips a moment longer than necessary. Showing a small smirk, he grabbed her hand, “Let’s head down to the beach, there’s something I want to show you.”</p><p>Laughing, she played her part, hanging onto his arm as he led her under the pier. Backing her against a column, he looked down into her eyes, “You see him anywhere?”</p><p>“There’s someone to my right, not sure if it’s him,” she replied, leaning her head back and giving him a coaxing smile.</p><p>“He with anyone else?” he asked, nuzzling her neck, and hearing a small whimper escape her lips.</p><p>Pulling him flush to her body and running her hands up his back into his hair, her hot breath on his ear sent a jolt straight to his stomach.</p><p>“It’s him, yes, I see someone else, but I can’t see what they are doing.” “Shit,” she said, causing him to still his breathing. “They’re moving Gibbs, they’re coming this way.”</p><p>He hated that his back was to what they were trying to see. Knowing he had to trust what she was seeing, he hoped Jack would have the same trust in him for what he was about to do. As if it was second nature, something they had done a thousand times, he pulled her hips to his. Eyes meeting hers, he whispered, “trust me,” before lowering his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Her soft encouraging lips had him quickly deepening the kiss nipping at her lower lip. He was unsure if the moan he heard was his or hers, but he was relieved that her body relaxed into his as she returned the fierceness of his kiss. </p><p>Jack could see them getting closer and knew she had to sell their act. A<em>re you acting, Jack,</em> she challenged, pushing the thought from her mind as she enjoyed the sweetness of his lips. Running her tongue against his lips, she asked for entry, which he gladly granted, not even trying to stop his moan this time, as she explored his mouth. </p><p>It was about then that the man, and what Jack now realized was a woman, passed by, barely giving them the time of day. They took in the couple in a heated embrace, gave each other knowing looks, and started laughing. “The same idea we had babe,” the man said, as they left the area. </p><p>The laughter they heard and the need for air had them pulling apart. Jack rested her head on his chest, not ready to meet his eyes. “So, I guess he was shifty-looking for a different reason. Sorry about that.”   </p><p>“Jack, rule six, never say you’re sorry, a sign of weakness.” He grinned down at her, “Think I can forgive you, sometimes sacrifices have to be made,” he said, receiving a slap to his chest and laughter.</p><p>“Always the ass,” she said, walking away from him.</p><p>“Come on,” he said, capturing her hand, “We need to get some photos of visitors, let’s go grab some dinner. I saw a place that looks promising; you ever been to Clancy’s?”</p><p>“What?” he asked, confused by her reaction. </p><p>“Nothing,” she smiled, “Clancy’s sound great, their steak and bourbon are amazing.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, thanks for reading. I know I'm wordy, I can't help it. I hope you still enjoy it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Hunt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jack and Gibbs continue their undercover work as a couple trying to catch a serial killer. Time is running out and both are frustrated at the lack of progress that is being made on the case and with each other. Will they be able to catch the killer in time?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I felt out of my comfort zone with this chapter. It took a while for inspiration to strike. Thanks for your patience. I hope you enjoy it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sharp aroma of morning coffee pulled him from his restless sleep. It had been another tortured night of tauntingly real dreams. He couldn’t escape her, not that he wanted to at this point. The nightly dreams over the past two days of undercover work had done nothing to appease the desire and need he felt towards her. If anything, it had blossomed the feelings, leaving him hungry for more. Rubbing the back of his neck, he stood stretching the tightness from his body, thankful he would be sleeping on the couch only one more night. <em>Don’t think my body can take another night of that.  </em></p><p>His dreams were not the only thing leaving him frustrated. For all their work the past two days, they had come up empty-handed. In fact, things had proved more complicated by the arrival of Pendleton Surf Club, a Navy group from Camp Pendleton. Their appearance at the hotel yesterday left the team scrambling.  </p><p>The eight men and women were walking billboards, with their surfboards, proudly showing Navy Surf Club. The original plan, to bait the killer with Gibbs, was now being shifted. Monitoring and befriending the potential victims was now the focus. </p><p>Gibbs was thankful for Jack’s natural charm. She could make a rock feel like it was important. Her genuine charisma, winning smile, and surfing ability had proven the perfect solution to getting in with the surfing group. It had also left Gibbs needing to take a swim of his own when he saw her in her suit for the first time.  </p><p>As he looked over at her standing out on the balcony, he knew he had been wise in his sleeping choice. He noticed she was lost in thought as she enjoyed her coffee and the ocean view, allowing him to enjoy his own view. The breeze gently swept the hair from her neck, showing the spot that he had the pleasure of tasting just yesterday while down on the beach. </p><p>*********</p><p>“I’m heading in for a bit,” she’d told the other surfers, laughing at their echoes of disappointment. </p><p>“I <em>am </em>supposed to be spending time with my husband,” she laughed as she started paddling towards shore. “Don’t worry; I’ll be back in a bit.” She assured them. </p><p>Walking back to their spot on the beach, Jack admired Gibbs’s ability to seem utterly disinterested in what was going on around him. Sitting under their umbrella, he had a beer sitting next to him, sunglasses perfectly perched covering his piercing blue eyes, and a book in his lap. Some might be convinced he was napping with the infrequency of the turning pages. No one would assume he was carefully observing them, looking for anything that was out of place—intently keeping note of where their eight navy surfers were. </p><p>“How’s the book?” she smiled, taking a seat next to him. </p><p>“It’s been pretty slow, although things just started heating up,” he smirked, glancing over at her in her suit, enjoying the coded message they were sharing. </p><p>“Yeah, the waves are pretty quiet today too, not much action at all; I hope they pick up tomorrow. I’d hate for our weekend to be a bust.”</p><p>“I told the boys I’d go back out for a few more runs,” she continued as she shifted her position, sitting in front of him now, leaning into his lap. </p><p>Seeing the mischievous look cross her eyes as she practically sat in his lap, he responded. “Well, I sure hope you get some kind of action, hate for you to be disappointed.”  </p><p>Pulling the hair off her neck, she handed him the sunblock, smiling sweetly. “Hun, can you get my back for me, I think I’m burning a bit, need to reapply before I head back out.”  </p><p>Ah, there it was. Well, two could play at this game, Gibbs decided. Leaning down to kiss the tender skin she had exposed to him, taking pride in the goosebumps, he felt on her skin as he feathered kisses behind her ear and down her neck. </p><p>“Of course, we wouldn’t want you to get burned, would we?” he whispered in her ear as he began massaging in the sunblock, now unsure of who was teasing who. </p><p>***********************</p><p>The clock chiming brought him back to reality, which wasn’t all that bad as he continued to admire Jack out on the balcony. Her peacefulness had a way of permeating the whole room, easing his weariness and stress.  </p><p>Feeling eyes on her, she turned with a warm smile, “Morning, coffee’s on the table.” </p><p>“Thanks,” he nodded, the sleepiness still evident in his raspy voice. </p><p>“The couch still remind you of home?” she asked, taking in his stiff movements as he went to retrieve his coffee, trying to hide her grin. <em> He is so damn cute. </em>  </p><p>“Yeah, right,” he grumbled, “Damn things’ made of cement.” </p><p>“I told you the bed is plenty big. How much room do you think I need,” she continued to tease.</p><p>He shot a glare for her audacity to tease this early in the morning, all before he had the chance to drink his coffee.</p><p>Look turning warm, he answered, “Thanks, but I’m gunna stick with the couch, probably safer for both of us.” </p><p>Enjoying the flush of her cheeks, he continued, “Gunna hop in the shower, try to wash these aches and sleep away.” Heading for the bathroom, he hoped the cold shower would solve more problems than his sore back.</p><p>Sighing as he got in the shower, he knew today would bring the same excitement and frustrations as the past two days. The only difference was, today was the 29th. Today they would either catch a killer or discover another victim. </p><p>***********</p><p>It was nearing sunset, and Gibbs could feel the tension rising as they sat on the beach under their umbrella. Jack had been out most of the day with the surfers, and he was sure she was mentally and physically nearing exhaustion. </p><p>They were all thankful that the surf club was back at the hotel, preparing to check out. Bobby and his men were monitoring them until they safely left the area.   </p><p>“Jack, we still have time, we knew he’d most likely show up in the morning or evening today. Let’s not call this yet,” he said, giving her shoulder a rub, more for her at this point than the role they were supposed to be playing. </p><p>“I know,” she couldn’t help but frown. “I’m just glad the surf club is all accounted for. Maybe we stopped him from killing this month at least,” she said, unable to hide the despair in her voice. </p><p>Hating the defeat he was hearing, he continued rubbing her shoulders, lost for words to comfort, hoping his touch would speak for him. </p><p>Leaning into his strong hands, her eyes slid closed as she began to relax as his fingers worked out the knot in her back. </p><p>“Damn, Gibbs, you have a rule for how to do this or something?” she asked, knowing the arrogant smirk she would see if she turned around to face him. </p><p>His grunt was the only reply she got as he continued to work the tight muscles in her back and shoulders slowly. </p><p>Time passed as they watched those passing by. Comfortable in the silence, Jack was lying against his chest now, as Gibbs slowly, rhythmically rubbed her arms. It felt natural, and that realization startled Jack. She was too comfortable; she had let her thoughts begin to drift. </p><p>Trying to stay focused and not let her thoughts wander to what else Gibbs’s hands would be good at, she decided she needed to break the silence. </p><p>“Do you ever go fishing?” she blurted. “I can’t believe we didn’t fish this weekend. The pier would have been perfect for that.”  </p><p>Not getting a response, she continued, rambling a bit now, “I prefer fishing from a boat, but the pier is good too if you are without a boat? You do much boating?”  </p><p>“Gibbs?” she asked, not getting a response from him. </p><p>“Yeah, some people aren’t into boats all that much. I get it. Me? I love boats,” she let out a little sigh, remembering some of her favorite past times with her family out on their boat. </p><p>Still not getting a response from him and the feeling his hands slow, she sat up.</p><p>“Gibbs?” “You okay?” </p><p>“Jack,” he whispered. “How much do surfboards weigh?” His voice was low and urgent, and she was instantly alert, all thoughts of boats gone. </p><p>“Five-to-twenty pounds. Why? Gibbs, what is it?” </p><p>Nodding his head ever so slightly to his left, he continued rubbing her shoulders like nothing was amiss. </p><p>“That man down at the water’s edge, he sure seems to be struggling with his surf bag. Have we seen him here this weekend?” </p><p>Slowing her suddenly racing heart, she realized he was right. He did seem to be having a difficult time carrying something that should be relatively light.</p><p>“No, I haven’t seen him all weekend; he’s definitely a new face.” </p><p>Pausing long enough to send the team a text, she turned to him.</p><p>“Let’s go!”</p><p>“Jack, wa. . .” he started to say, only to have her jump up, let out a squeal of delight and start running towards the water. </p><p>Smart, he thought, leaping up and laughing as he gave chase.</p><p>Jack ran straight for the man, who was now bent over the surfboard bag. Hearing her laughter, he suddenly stopped his movements and momentarily froze. Not wanting him to flee, she ran past him, looking over her shoulder and grinning at Gibbs. </p><p>Gibbs saw the man tense and then relax as Jack continued past him. Catching up to her, he grabbed her around the waist laughing in delight at his victory. </p><p>“What now, Jack?” he whispered as she “struggled” to free herself from him. </p><p>“It’s him, Gibbs, I know it,” she said, pulling them both to the ground, him on top of her. </p><p>“Good enough for me,” he whispered, trying to convince his body this was not what it thought it was. </p><p>The man dismissed them as quickly as he had been startled by Jack’s laughter. He had seen them around all weekend, all over each other. He would have liked to have gotten to one of them, but they were together too much. Even when she was out surfing, they were connected. He grimaced at the memory of the way they had looked continuously at each other. It was revolting. Glancing over his shoulder, he shuddered at the sight of the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms. Going back to his task at hand, he unzipped his bag. He only had a few more minutes before the woman was sure to wake up. He needed to be quick. </p><p>Seeing the man go back to his bag, they sprang into action. As he reached in, he felt something jab into his back, causing him to pause his movements.  </p><p>“Okay, nice and easy, bring your hands to where I can see em’,” Gibbs demanded. </p><p>Stepping in front of him, she flashed her badge, “Special Agent Sloane, NCIS, I’d do what he says.” </p><p>“There something wrong with taking a sunset-surf?” the man, used to charming his way out of situations, asked. </p><p>His relaxed demeanor was meant to charm, but all it did was further convince Jack they had caught their psychopath. “No harm at all, why don’t you show us your board and you will be free-to-go.” </p><p>This time it was Gibbs’s recommending he listen. “I’d do what the lady asked,” he said, stepping from behind him, gun still trained on him. </p><p>They both watched as the confident smile on the man’s face turned to dark rage. “I should have known you were cops,” the man spat, “No couple is that in love.”  </p><p>“Yeah, Yeah, turn around asshole,” Gibbs cut off his rant, relieved he hadn’t tried anything foolish. </p><p>Jack dropped down to look inside the bag. Slowly unzipping, disappointment covered her face that they hadn’t stopped him in time. </p><p>Hearing a small groan come from within, she paused. “Oh my gosh, I think they are alive,” she rushed, not realizing she had been holding her breath. </p><p>Opening the bag, she found a woman with a giant goose egg, but very much alive. Pulling the gag from her mouth, “Mam, it’s okay, you’re safe…NCIS, you are safe,” she continued, comforting the terrified looking woman, relief washing over her face. </p><p>Looking up, she saw the tender look of relief and something else cross over Gibbs’s face. </p><p>“She’s alive. Gibbs, she’s alive. We did it. We stopped him,” she finished, collapsing into the sand.  </p><p>It was at that moment her team came rushing up with at least seven other agents following behind. Shouts of “NCIS” &amp; “FBI” were heard from all directions. </p><p>Gibbs quickly handed the man over to Jamal to cuff and take into custody. He only had eyes for the woman still sitting in the sand. </p><p>Realizing there were still important things that needed to be taken care of, he turned back to Jamal. “We need a bus for the woman; she appears to have a head wound but is relatively unscathed.” </p><p>“Have Nash follow her to the hospital,” he ordered, not caring whose toes he was stepping on at the moment, only wanting to get back to Jack, to make sure she was okay. </p><p>To Jamal’s credit, he didn’t budge. Instead, glancing down at where his Boss still sat. </p><p>“Boss?”</p><p>She had never felt more pride for her second in charge. Jamal was ready to run his own team, she realized. It was going to be hard to lose him. Seeing the glare Gibbs was giving, and Jamal’s unflinching stance, confirmed she could leave the clean-up in his capable hands. </p><p>“Do it, Jamal. You’ve got lead, okay?”</p><p>“You sure, Boss?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. </p><p>“I’m sure. I’m done for today. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow for a debrief,” she replied, getting to her feet. </p><p>Gibbs reached down to give her a hand, pulling her closer than necessary, but feeling protective. </p><p>Looking up at him, she gave a small reassuring smile and a pat to his chest, taking a step back. </p><p>Taking in the activity around her, she was relieved to see the ease at which they all worked. Busy doing the tasks she had trained them to do. None seemed the wiser of the turmoil running through her mind at that moment. </p><p><em> It’s over. I can’t believe it is over.  </em>   <em> Why am I feeling so disappointed? We have him. I’m tired, I’m sure I just need sleep... .and a stiff drink.  </em></p><p>“Jamal has point, I’m going to go call Leon,” she announced to the group of agents, voice full of confidence and control. </p><p>Getting a chorus of affirmatives from the agents, she turned to head back to the hotel. Back turned; she missed the tender looked one particular agent gave her. He clearly was not buying for a minute that all was right with Agent Jack Sloane. Decided he was needed in their room too, he began to follow. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One more chapter to go. Mostly fluffy Slibbs in the next chapter. Hoping it will be posted in time for Slibbs week! Thank you to all who have stayed with the story from the beginning, and for your kind words and kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Tangible Truths</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The conclusion to Gibbs time in California. Jack and Gibbs come to terms with what they mean to each other.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Struggling between giving space, and his own need to be close to her, he hesitated upon reaching the lobby of the hotel. Seeing FBI Agent Bobby in the hall in a heated discussion with two of his agents, he debated on how to proceed.</p><p>Deciding Jack was most likely calling Leon and could use some time, he headed towards the men. He’d like some information of his own cleared up before going upstairs.</p><p>“We good here?” his clipped voice interrupted the three men, bringing their discussion to a halt as nervous eyes darted between the glares Gibbs and Bobby were giving each other. </p><p>“Gibbs,” Bobby said, giving him a curt nod. </p><p>“What seems to be the problem?” he asked the other men, ignoring Bobby.</p><p>Interrupting his agents’ answer, Bobby cut in, “No, no problem,” he cleared his voice. “Uh, did you happen to see who the woman was in the surf bag?” he asked, failing to make full eye contact with Gibbs’s death glare.  </p><p>“Yes, <em>we</em> did,” was his telling reply.  </p><p>Throwing his hands in the air, Bobby tried defending himself. “We trailed those surfers, Gibbs. All of them! I don’t know how the bastard managed to get past my agents and reach her. I’m checking with them now,” he finished, glaring at his men. </p><p>“A team’s only as good as their leader, <em>Agent</em> <em>Bobby</em>,” he gritted, receiving one glare and two sets of wide eyes. “Lucky for you, the woman survived,” he finished, seeing the look of relief pass through the group.  </p><p>“Jack, I mean, the rest of the agents—are they all okay? </p><p>“She’s fine,” he said, watching Bobby’s shoulders drop, before adding, voice cold, “-and so is everyone else. Jack gave lead to Jamal; he’s down at the beach, working.” </p><p>“She’s not at the beach?” a confused Bobby asked. </p><p>“Jamal could use you down there,” he said, ignoring the question. </p><p>“But…”</p><p>“<em>Jack</em> will see you in her office in the morning, not before,” his steel voice challenged him to continue arguing.</p><p>Satisfied with Bobby’s stiff nod, he gave one final glare and the group and headed for the elevators. </p><p>Gibbs was done for the night. He was done with giving orders and thinking about death. Focusing his thoughts on more pleasant possibilities allowed him to walk away from the FBI agent without a backward glance. </p><p>Pushing the button to their floor, he hoped he had given her enough time to make her call, and that she would be okay with his company. </p><p>********</p><p>Changed into red cloth shorts and an army tee, Jack paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, absentmindedly twirling her hair as she listened.  </p><p>“Thanks, Leon…Yeah, I’m pretty tired…No, I’m not sure where he is…Leon, No, I haven’t told him…I know, I will. Just give me till the end of the week to wrap up the reports on the case. Things have been a little busy here…Yes, Jamal would be great, I agree…Leon, I’m not talking to you about that…” </p><p>Hearing the door close, she interrupted him, “I’ll call you tomorrow when I get in, that’s everything you need to know on the case for now…I told you, I’m not talking about it, I gotta go …” she trailed off, seeing the stunned look of the man she had just been talking about.</p><p>“I doubt that, Leon,” she tightly laughed. “Good night,” she finished, disconnecting the call, tossing the phone on the side table. Looking back at him still frozen in the doorway, she offered a small smile of greeting.  </p><p>“Hey,” was all that came out of his dry mouth. </p><p>He’d seen her in her swimsuit the past three days, why was the sight of her in night shorts and an Army tee leaving him tongue-tied, and his stomach in knots? </p><p>Urging his feet to move, he walked into the room, resting his hands on the back of the couch. Feeling the need to put distance between them, he stayed behind the sofa. He was sure if he got any closer, he would be unable to stop himself from pulling her into his arms and kissing her until his aching heart eased. </p><p>“Don’t let me stop you from making your calls,” he said. His words were sounding professional; yet, his roaming eyes and hard swallows were betraying him. </p><p>“Leon,” she shrugged towards the phone, her stomach flipping at the intensity of his look. <em>My god, he looks like he wants to devour me. </em></p><p>Leaning against the wall, she trapped her fidgety hands behind her back. “Leon’s going to want to talk to both of us tomorrow, told me to take advantage of the comfy hotel bed tonight…” “I mean sleep, Leon said we should make sure we both sleep,” she tried to correct, realizing how it had sounded. She was unable to stop the glance she gave towards the bed and then to him, his eyebrows raised in surprise, quickly turning to a boyish grin. </p><p>Biting her lip, she looked away from his irresistible smugness. Attempting to stop her blush, and silently cursing Leon for putting such thoughts in her head, she moved from the wall to the chair that was next to the minibar. <em>Who are you kidding Jack,</em> she scolded, <em>you didn’t need Leon, to put those thoughts there. </em></p><p>“Tomorrow works for me,” he said, seeing her blush, but choosing to ignore the elephant in the room, for now.  </p><p>“Jamal seems to have everything under control,” he said, staying on safe ground with his words, but tempting fate by taking a seat next to her.  </p><p>“Yes, he’ll be running his team soon,” she said, proud of how calm she sounded as she begged her racing heart to slow down, unaware of the nervous way her fingers drummed on the table. </p><p>“Speaking of agents doing their jobs, I ran into <em>Agent Bobby</em> on my way up,” he said, gauging her reaction to the mention of his name. </p><p>Her hands froze as her eyes flashed, “Oh? And did he explain what the hell he was doing while <em>we</em> were out catching a murderer?” </p><p>Not sure which he was enjoying more; her anger or the emphasis she put on the word <em>we, </em>he stayed straight-faced as he answered. </p><p>“Let’s just say he was relieved everyone was safe and learned a hard lesson on leadership,” he said, placing a hand on top of hers, offering what comfort he could.  </p><p>Frustrated, she shook her head, “It was too close, Gibbs. He had better have a good explanation for how the hell that was able to happen.” </p><p>“Told him to check in with Jamal, and that we’dsee him tomorrow. He can explain it all then,” he said, hoping that would be enough for her for now, and that she’d be able to let it go.</p><p>Her hand had been gripping his tightly, so he was surprised when she let out a laugh, and her grip eased. </p><p>“Jamal is going to tear him to shreds, kind of wish I could see it,” she grinned, squeezing his hand in thanks. “He’s certainly ready for what’s to come, I’m sure going to miss him,” she lamented. </p><p>A small chuckle escaped his lips, “Guess you shouldn’t have trained him so well, Jack. Agents are only as good as their boss’ taught em’ to be, after all.”  </p><p>“Well, knock me over with a feather,” she smiled, “Did I just receive a compliment from <em>very</em> Special Agent Leroy Gibbs?” </p><p>“Ah, Jack, I think I can give you a better compliment than that,” he drawled, eyes running up the length of her, enjoying the flush spreading across her cheeks. </p><p>Reaching behind him, he grabbed the bottle, holding it up, “Have a drink with me?”</p><p>Powerless to his charm, she gave a simple nod, swallowing hard as she stared into his eyes. Eyes, she was sure were reading her every thought. <em>You need to tell him, Jack. Tell him before this goes any further, </em>she scolded herself. </p><p>Feeling the need to cool her cheeks and regain her composure, she stood and headed for the balcony. The screech of the seagulls and feel of the sea breeze on her cheeks were not enough to stop her racing mind. </p><p><em>What the hell am I doing? Am I trying to mess this up? My god, he’s only been here for a week. I can’t feel like this after a week, can I? It’s all this pent up tension between us, that’s all it is.</em> Leaning into the railing, she breathed deeply, willing her mind to slow down. </p><p>Walking out to join her, he stopped, thrown back to that first night on the pier. Like that night, she seemed in deep thought, battling between two extreme emotions. Although her beauty was what had first caught his eye, it was her laughter and smile that kept him intrigued. <em>Has it only been a week since I met her? Damn, Gibbs, you fell fast, </em>he thought, feeling a magnetic need to be closer as he closed the distance between them.  </p><p>Stepping behind her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her glass up. Her jump and small gasp had him pausing. “You okay?” </p><p>His warm breath hit her ear, sending a shiver through her. “Better now,” she sighed, taking the offered glass and leaning into his solid frame, rubbing her hand down his arm. <em>My god, he smells so damn good? </em></p><p>Pulling her closer, he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek, “To closing the case,” he said, clinking his glass to hers. </p><p>“The case,” she murmured, taking a sip and resting her head against his chest. She wanted to savor this time, having no idea how he would react when he learned about D.C.</p><p>Her relaxed hum jolted through his body, her gentle fingers rubbing his arm, causing his mind to race. Being sensible was proving more and more difficult as he tried to stay clear-minded. She fit perfectly in his arms and seemed to be enjoying his closeness as much as he was hers. <em>Why am I fighting this?</em> </p><p>“How’s Leon?” he asked, trying desperately to distract his mind from the reaction his body was having to her pressing into him.  </p><p>“Not good?” he questioned, feeling her tense. </p><p><em>Here we go, </em>she thought, before saying, “He was pleased with our work. Doubly so, since we stopped the guy before he killed again.”</p><p>“But?” he asked, sensing there was something she was not saying. When she didn’t respond, he gently turned her around to face him. His eyes bore into hers as he waited for a response.  </p><p>With a sigh, she answered. “But, nothing, at least not with the case,” she shrugged, biting her lower lip, not wanting to reveal the rest of the complicated conversation, not wanting this thing with them to end so soon.  </p><p>Setting his glass down, he closed what little space there was between them. Reminiscent of their first night undercover on the pier, he trapped her between his arms, looking down.  </p><p>“What aren’t you telling me, Jack?” he said, voice low, eyes drawn to her mouth as she continued to worry her lower lip.</p><p>“Not, now, Gibbs, please,” she begged, grasping his shirt into her fist. “Later,” she finished, her lips slightly parting as she looked up into his heated eyes. </p><p>She needed to know. Know if there was anything between them. The way her heart raced when all he did was look at her, told her yes—the kiss under the pier that first night, called her every kind of fool for doubting him.</p><p>But that had been undercover, an act. She needed to know if the real Gibbs and Jack had a chance. His eyes had turned dark and smoldering as he watched her, further confirming her suspicions. But she needed hard facts, tangible results. </p><p>*******</p><p>Jack was correct. He <em>could</em> get answers later. In fact, at the moment, he couldn’t remember what the hell he had been seeking answers to. His hands were resting on the rail on either side of her, still not letting himself to touch her. Lowering his head, he stopped moments before his lips touched hers. His breath was hot and heavy as his eyes softened, looking into hers for permission. </p><p>“Well?” she whispered breathless, waiting. Her need for him superseding any question she was trying to answer, give, or make sense of. The desire in his eyes mirrored hers as his lips finally lowered to hers. </p><p>Slowly he brushed her lips in an intimate, tender kiss. Her sweet sigh had him immediately pressing his lips to hers again, savoring the way they seemed to mold to his. He discovered the softness of her lips was, in fact, very real, and he delighted that he was being allowed to feel them. </p><p>Tender and sweet as the kiss was, it was not going to satisfy his hunger. Pulling back, he waited a beat, her adorable pout at his early departure, causing him to quickly close the space between them again, deepening the next kiss. Pressing firmer, he captured her delicious lips to his, a hand caressing her cheek, captivated by the involuntary sounds coming from her. <em>My god, will I ever have enough of her</em>, he thought, wrapping his other arm around her, pulling her flush to his body, every nerve on high alert.</p><p>She demanded more contact of her own, pressing into him and running her hands up his chest. Reaching behind his neck and into his hair, she pulled slightly as she gently bit his lower lip. This time it was his groan they heard as she ran her tongue over his mouth, soothing were she had nipped. He tasted like bourbon and coffee, and she never wanted it to end.  </p><p>The sigh that escaped her as they broke apart had him grinning down at her heavily-lidded eyes. Pressing one more fluttering kiss to her soft lips, he trailed kisses down her jaw towards her ear. Kissing behind it before whispering, “Told you, I could give a better compliment.” </p><p>Shaking her head and trying not to laugh at his arrogant smirk, she gave him a shove. Only to have him chuckle, wrapping her in his arms again, pressing a kiss to her forehead.   </p><p>He had forgotten what little clothing she was in until his hands came in contact with her skin. “Jack, you’re freezing,” he said, rubbing her arms. “Come on, let’s go inside.” </p><p>“Why Jethro, are you propositioning me?” she teased, following him inside, her wide smile disappearing as Gibbs froze mid-stride in front of her. </p><p>“Gibbs,” she questioned cautiously, walking behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>He spun so fast she was surprised he didn’t collide with any of the nearby furniture. “Say that again,” he ordered, stepping into her space.</p><p>“Are you propositioning me? Bad joke, I know,” she said, stepping back from him, only to have him match her, step-for-step, her eyes widening at his intensity. </p><p>“No, not, that,” he said, continuing to stalk her movements. “Say it, say it again, Jaqueline,” he finished with a whisper. </p><p>Her eyebrows shot up as understanding dawned. She placed a palm to his chest, stopping him. Taking one final step back, her leg hit the frame of the bed.   </p><p>Reaching for his shirt, she pulled him close, her hot breath hitting his ear as she whispered, “Jethro.” </p><p>His eyes burned, and she reveled in his response. Adding a kiss, she continued to seduce him with a simple word.   </p><p>It rolled off her tongue like a sweet melody. “Jethro,” she said again, enjoying the taste of his skin as she peppered him with kisses, punctuating each one with his name. His groan was very real as his stomach dropped.  </p><p>“My god, Jack, do you have any idea what you are doing to me?” he said, cradling her face between his hands, and placing a chaste kiss to her lips.</p><p>“I have an idea,” she smiled tenderly. Running her hand down his cheek, she took a steadying breath and sat down on the edge of the bed, tugging his hand to join her. </p><p>The reality was setting in for both. The attraction was real; Jack knew that without a doubt. She also knew he would soon be flying back to D.C, and then what? She had to tell him. What if he was only interested in this <em>because </em>he would soon be flying back home? </p><p>He saw the flicker of doubt and something else in her crinkled brow, as she sat down on the bed, pulling him next to her. He understood, at least partly, what she must be feeling. He hated that he would be leaving so soon after she came into his life. As much as he wanted this, he couldn’t let things go any farther than they already had, it wasn’t fair to her. He wouldn’t use her like that; he cared too much.  </p><p>Resting his hand on her leg, he asked, “So, what do we do now?” Trying to lighten the tension, he added, “You still willing to share the bed?” --- “Jack?” he said, worried when she didn’t respond at his attempt at humor. </p><p>“There’s something I need to tell you, Gibbs. Something you should know.” </p><p>“Okay-” <em>This can’t be good.</em></p><p>“Leon, you see, is a good friend of mine,” she started. “Actually, he’s my closest friend. He’s been after me for years to move to D.C, work for him there. Keeps telling me there is nothing here to keep me, why not live where there is family close by, in D.C?” she looked over at his keen eyes, listening, waiting. “So,” she continued, “I told him I couldn’t leave until I closed this case, and well,” she shrugged, “now that the case is closed—</p><p><em>Is she saying what I think she is saying? Move to D.C? Jack is going to be moving to D.C!?</em> </p><p>He needed her to say the words. He willed himself to breathe as he asked her, hands open, “What are you sayin’, Jack?” </p><p>“I’m saying I told Leon yes. I’m saying, I’ll be working and living in D.C.” Gibbs’s face remained unchanged, <em>damn him for being so unreadable.</em> </p><p>She continued, “I made my decision to move before we met Gibbs. I hope you believe me. I don’t have any expectations for us; I need you to know that. I hope you will be good with this,” she finished, her voice growing stronger by the end of her speech, relieved to have the truth out. </p><p>“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”     </p><p>“Rule 5.”</p><p>“Seriously, Leroy?” she said, exasperated. “You’re going to go and quote another one of your damn rules!” she said, standing and glaring down at him. “You know, I’m beginning to doubt these are even real rules. What the hell is rule 5, can you at least--”</p><p>His smile, tender, started as soon as she said his name, and continued to grow as she laid into him. <em>Jack in D.C, what did I do to deserve this? This is going to be so much fun. </em></p><p>“Jack,” he almost yelled, reaching for her hand, bringing her tirade to an abrupt halt. </p><p>“What,” she huffed, pulling her hand away from him, crossing her arms to her chest. </p><p>“Rule 5, you don’t waste good,” he said, reaching his hands around her waist. “And you, Jack, you are most definitely good,” he grinned, pulling her down into his lap, kissing her deeply.  </p><p>“Well how about that, it appears we will be sharing the bed after all,” he grinned, when they broke apart.</p><p>“Such an ass,” she laughed, giving him a playful shove. </p><p>“Always,” he said, stopping her laughter with another kiss, not knowing exactly what it would lead to, but thankful they were headed down the same path together.  </p><p> ~End</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can't thank you all enough for reading this story to the end. I hope you've enjoyed it. I appreciate all the love and support I have received as I wrote it. You all are amazing!<br/>I may do a short epilogue, but for now I feel this story is complete.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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